


A Little Rest Does One Good

by cocoalover1956



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 08:50:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3404546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cocoalover1956/pseuds/cocoalover1956
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The doctor needs to go to bed. Whouffle angst & hurt/comfort fluff. Inspired by the song Slow It Down by The Lumineers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Rest Does One Good

He was home, but the usual feeling of content warmth was absent. Clara stood on the other side of the consul, tentatively touching the various buttons and levers, hoping to finally make the TARDIS like her. The Doctor smiled, a little sliver of amusement. All River had to do was be born and the TARDIS had loved her; she'd convinced Sexy to cooperate on the first try.

His smile slipped and he turned his back to keep Clara from seeing the expression on his face. He hadn't thought of River in a long time and he preferred to keep it that way. Loving her was hard and leaving her was agonizing. He hated to remember that she'd died in his place. Thoughts of River flowed to thoughts of Amy and Rory. Amy and Rory led back to Wilf and Donna. Martha. Jack. Mickey. Rose. Their faces faded in and out of his vision at their own will.

"Doctor?!" The doctor opened his eyes. Had he closed them? Clara was right in front of him now, looking disturbed and concern.

"Clara!" He exclaimed with an artificial grin. "Made any progress?"

"No." Clara began slowly, "Why are you so upset?"

"N-oh nothing. I'm completely fine. No reason to be concerned."

Clara crossed her arms "I'm very concerned."

"That's quite kind of you." He said genuinely.

"You should go to bed."

He laughed once. "I'm a Time Lord; I don't need to sleep for decades."

"What if I said I didn't believe you?" Clara challenged.

"What's not to believe?" The Doctor shrugged and turn away.

"Why do you keep turning away from me?" Clara asked grabbing his shoulder.

"I don't." The Doctor insisted.

Clara swiveled to stand in front of him. "You do." she looked up in his face, closer than he would have liked. "What's bothering you?"

"I don't think you'd understand."

"Try me."

"No."

"Doctor-"

"No. Please Clara, listen. I keep things locked up, things I wouldn't want you hear them. You should have to worry about them."

She looked scared then; that made him worry what she may be thinking. "At least get some sleep." Before he could interrupt, she added, "You may not need to, but you should. A little rest does one good."

The Doctor looked at her for a moment and sighed. "Fine. Alright then." he said at last, raising his hands. "I'll go to bed. Happy?"

"Quite." Clara smiled. Her shoulders eased and the tightness around her eyes faded. She stepped out of his as he went down a corridor. "Good night!" she called.

"'Night." was the quiet, somewhat melancholy response.

Having given up on her quest to obtain Sexy's approval, Clara went an opposite way to her own bedroom. 'I should get some sleep too.' she thought. When she got into her own room, Clara stripped and put on a light green nightie. As she set herself under the covers, she thought of the Doctor's sad, haunted look.

Some time later, how long she couldn't say, Clara awoke to the sense that something wasn't right. She got up and, without bothering to change, exited her room. The TARDIS was dark and cool. Clara's barefoot footsteps made no noise as she cautiously navigated the ship. As if following a dream, she came to a door where a thin strip of light escaped at the bottom.

Quietly, she touched the door. It opened instantly, revealing the Doctor, in white pajamas, sulking on the edge of his bed.

"Did you sleep?" she asked.

"No." he admitted quietly.

Clara sat on the bed beside him. "I thought you wouldn't. Do you want to talk about it?"

The looked at her, but then averted his eyes. "You know you're not the first person to travel with me."

"You miss your old friends."

"Well yes. But that's not all. Bad things happened to them-things that were my fault."

"But you never meant to hurt them." Clara countered.

"Does it matter?" The Doctor's eyes were deep with grief.

"Of course it matters." Clara whispered earnestly.

As Clara grew sleepier The Doctor continued talking to her. He told her about the Library, about Canary Wharf, about Demon's Run. The words floated in her head like a lullaby, until she was fast asleep.

When Clara woke up, she was still in the Doctor's bed. He was fast asleep, his head on her shoulder, his arms around her waist. Clara smiled and kissed the top of his head.

"Good morning Doctor."


End file.
